A Shoulder to Cry On
by Aurorax
Summary: When everything is broken, sometimes you need a shoulder to cry on and a hand to help you back to your feet. Thayet fic set during the final battle of LR, written for the Peculiar Pairings Ficathon at Goldenlake fiefgoldenlake dot proboards dot com .


**Warning: Possibly some light femslash. Or just a strong friendship, read it as you wish.

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"_Thayet, seeing the direction of his look, waved tiredly. She sat with her head on a noblewoman's shoulder, a shattered sword on her lap. Her new friend was as exhausted and battered as she." ~LR

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It was all over. She knew that, could tell from the grim smiles on the faces of the hardened fighters, the way their eyes no longer darted about the perimeter of the room looking for hidden enemies but instead scoured the rubble for survivors. Still, she was afraid to stand. One of the few things that truly terrified her had always been that feeling of losing control. Not the one that came on the back of a swift horse, accompanied by wind-whipped tears and the sensation of flying- no, that was freedom, that was what she lived for- but the opposite, being caught up in the hands of fate. It was her inability to change her father's mind, or her mother's decision, or to stop the tremors that rent the earth. The things that gave her the sense of being helpless, powerless, vulnerable- all that she most feared.

So she wouldn't stand, wouldn't risk the ground rising up beneath her feet once more; because even though she knew everything was all right now, she couldn't help but wonder in that dark corner of her mind that had seen the horrors of Sarain if the world was so broken it could never be put back together again. The cracked tiles and splintered wood just looked so utterly broken.

There was too much movement; the men she was already starting to consider her new family were walking with purposeful strides across the wreckage, their minds already on the next task or the next year. Was it even possible, for her to feel so alone amidst this whirlwind of motion and color and the tang of dried blood? But she was alone, the calm at the center of the hurricane, sitting silently among the shattered pieces of the sword that had saved her life.

Gary and Myles had gone at a run, accompanying the Duke to the infirmary; Thayet stopped for a moment to pray for the grizzled soldier who had welcomed her with open arms and who had guided Jon through the last few months, knowing the Prince- well, the King now- couldn't handle losing anyone else. Not after his parents; not after today.

It wasn't hard for her to pick out Raoul from among those searching the rubble, standing with the Lord Provost while fending off the continued advances of a healer who sought to attend to a heavily-bleeding slash in his lower thigh. He avoided the healing as skillfully as he had avoided the banquets and parties of the weeks leading up to the coronation, but Thayet could see he was barely able to remain on his feet. She would have scolded him for his noble stupidity, had she thought that her voice would come out as any more than a hoarse whisper.

George- but she couldn't look at George, not now, as he and Coram carefully cleaned and bandaged the wounds of the Shang Dragon. The day was already in danger of becoming far too real. She was strong- she had always been strong- but Liam and Alanna had been everything she needed over the course of their long journey, and the only thing that was keeping her from breaking down was her own inability to yet process the events of last few hours.

How much time had passed? Too much- Buri should have been back by now, but she was still gone, following the twisting path of Jon's visions through the depths of the catacombs and the scenes of nightmares. Alanna's fire burned brighter than anyone she knew, except maybe the man who stood off to her side, the man who would be King; Alanna had the strength to burn through the darkness. But looking over at Jon, seeing him trapped in the glow of a magic that was all wrong, head resting heavily on his hands- she should go to him, help him, she knew, but his unfamiliar foreignness made her panic, and it was all she could do to help herself- it seemed that nothing was certain anymore. If only they would hurry; if only she knew they were safe.

It was more than she could bear, the loneliness and the uncertainty- Thayet made up her mind to go after Buri, sure she wouldn't be missed among the reigning chaos. Standing proved more difficult than expected, though, her knees weak with suppressed fear. Now that it was over, all the fight seemed to have left her, and she stumbled as she rose. But it was not the cold harsh stone of the ground that received her, as she had expected; something else entirely arrested her fall, something warm and comforting that smelled like home.

When she next opened her eyes, she was seated once more, resting under the watchful eye of a woman she had never seen before. The stranger must have caught her as she fell, though it seemed unlikely looking at her; the other woman appeared to be just about as battered as Thayet felt, and her ruined gown draped across her body in a way that revealed her early pregnancy. Her saviour was polite but practical, bowing her head in respect rather than attempting a curtsy that they both knew she wouldn't have been able to rise from.

The woman looked uncertain for a moment- the wrinkle in her brow highlighted her indecision about how to act in the company of a princess- but after a quick glance at the wreckage surrounding them, she abandoned all ceremony and eased herself down. Holding out her hand, she introduced herself as Ilane of Mindelan, and now that she was closer Thayet could tell she was still quite young, despite the startling threads of grey that shot through her dark hair.

It was always easier to be alone together, and Thayet thanked any Gods who were listening for her newfound companion. She knew there was something about the horror and destruction of what they had witnessed that bound them together, and as she bent her head to rest on Ilane's shoulder Thayet felt as if they had known one another forever.

"Why didn't you run with the other noblewomen? It was dangerous to stay, in your condition." Thayet didn't even bother to open her eyes, content to let the comfort of their closeness seep into her in waves of unfamiliar peace. But she had to know why Ilane had chosen to fight, when she could have sought safety so easily.

"I've got two sons at the Palace, a page and a squire. I didn't know what would happen, whether they would be asked to fight. I couldn't leave, not knowing. I may not have been able to do much, but I was one more person between those men and my sons."

"And how your boys?"

"They've barely a scratch on them- luckier than many. I know Duke Gareth got the pages out before the worst of it began. My youngest is with his father, shaken but safe; he'll start training as well in a few years."

"Your family does itself proud, sending three into the service of the Crown."

Ilane looked thoughtful for a minute, as if considering her words carefully. Thayet wondered what she was thinking; the last comment had been a careless formality, something that was always said and always had been. In times like these, when every shield was needed, Mindelan honored itself by offering three potential knights.

"I'm hoping my newest is a girl. I know I should hope for a son, that you're always supposed to hope for a son, but I really want a little girl. She will never be a knight, but I can pass down to her all that my mother taught to me." Ilane's voice got softer and she unconsciously rested her arm across her slightly-bulging stomach as she admitted this, her eyes far away in memory of the past or dream of the future.

Thayet felt her heart break at these words. It was everything she wished her father had said, everything that her mother had told her to heal the pain of the mistake that had never been her fault, the mistake of her birth. In that moment, she was hit by a wave of grief stronger than she had ever felt, and the tears began to stream unchecked across her flawless cheeks. She cried for her mother and for Buri and for her destroyed homes, both old and new; she cried a tear for each corpse she had seen, bloated and forgotten along the roadside. She had spent so long trying to be strong, knowing she couldn't let herself break down; but here in Ilane's arms, she felt safe enough to grieve.

She didn't know how long they sat like that, the older woman holding her and comforting her as if she was still a child. Then Buri was back with Alanna, and Jon was looking for her, and the world that had been frozen in place started turning once more. Thayet felt Ilane's fingers against her cheek, the softest caress she could imagine, brushing away the last of her tears. Her lips traced the same path, gentle and sweet as the touch of a butterfly but leaving a burning trail in their wake. Then she rose, curtsied, and was gone, back to her husband and her children, the others who needed her care.

Thayet struggled to her feet and fell into Jon's arms, vowing never to forget Ilane of Mindelan.

********

It was hard to draw herself away from the nursery, but Thayet knew the duty she now had to her country. And Council meetings were part of that duty, even on the mornings after the nights that her newborn son had done his outmost to ensure she didn't get a wink of sleep. Still, the thought of leaving Roald with some unknown nursemaid had been unbearable.

Looking over toward the wooden cradle in the corner, she smiled at the sight of Buri and Raoul enraptured by the young prince, Buri's head barely coming halfway up Raoul's chest while his looming form cast her friend into shadow. They had been quick to offer their services; they were always quick to jump at the chance of ducking out of Council meetings, each trying to outdo the other with a new outlandish excuse every week. It would be interesting to see if they still preferred babysitting duty to meetings in a few months time- Buri had never been the maternal type, and the thought of huge Raoul holding a tiny squeeling infant was near laughable- but at the moment she was just thankful for the help, and the peace of mind that came from knowing nothing would happen to her son on their watch.

"We must arrange a suitable alliance for Roald." She had barely been out of the healer's chambers when she started hearing that from the advisors. Jon himself had been entranced by the newborn for a few days, but he too soon turned to plotting and politics, the baby just another pawn to play with, and a powerful one at that. She had held out for as long as possible, but even she wasn't stubborn enough to hold out any longer. Today the embassy to the Yamani Islands would be chosen, the group of people who held the fate of her son in their unfamiliar hands.

They had been talking for hours, considering this diplomat and that, addressing the various factors. The words swirled around Thayet in a haze, a jumble of sounds without meaning. It was late in the day and the sun was beginning to slant through the windows, burning her eyes and spreading bloody shadows across the walls, when a name pierced through the fog into the depths of her memories.

"Mindelan?"

"Yes, the Baron Piers. He hasn't done anything on this scale before, but he is smart and well-liked, conservative enough to please the Yamanis. And his wife, the Lady Ilane, would be willing to accept the invitation to train with her hosts, a necessary concession which many of the more experienced men's wives have refused to grant." She could hear the surprise in Jon's voice at her sudden interest- it had been over an hour since she had last spoken- but few others would notice. He made a great King, but she knew how to see the man that was hidden beneath.

As she wrapped Roald in his blanket and laid him down in the wooden cradle, she felt a bit of her fear for his future ease from where it had gripped her heart. Ilane would do right by him.

********

There was little fanfare as the small group comprising the Tortallan embassy to the Yamani Islands prepared to ride out of Corus and begin the first leg of their long journey. It had taken years of preparation to even get to this point- years of lessons in Yamani manner and custom, all of which might prove totally useless should the Emperor decide not to favor the foreign visitors.

Thayet stood in the pre-dawn gloom, watching the figures saying their last goodbyes to their homeland. Ilane was easy to recognize, her height and her hair distinguishing her from the crowd. Her youngest daughter held tight to her hand, still half-asleep and confused at all the commotion. The pair looked up at the approach of the Queen, and Thayet turned to kiss Ilane in greeting but changed her mind at the last moment and kissed the young girl instead.

"Make us proud," she said to young Keladry with a smile, before returning to her husband's side. She didn't ask anything of Ilane, though there were so many things she could have said- words weren't necessary. They understood one another, just as they had on that day that seemed so long ago. Just standing next to Ilane gave Thayet a feeling of comfort and safety, and the air seemed to hang with the silent promise that it would all be right in the end. For one moment, she was home again.

The embassy rode off, quickly getting lost in the fog, but Thayet stood watching longer after they had faded from view, shivering suddenly in a chill she hadn't noticed before.


End file.
